Tears pooled in her eyes. Not because she was able to cry, but because Abrax’s paralysis prevented her from blinking.
Abrax lifted his hand from her forehead, and wiped the tears away. “There there, the hard part is over. Your soul is almost mine.”
No. Adrenaline and raw panic snapped through her nerve endings.
He leaned in close, his mouth only inches from hers. Then, fixing his eyes on hers, he began to draw her soul out. Silver threads passed through her lips, wafting into the air. Abrax reached for them with a thin tongue. As he pulled the first of the threads into his mouth, his eyes widened in surprise. Then his brow furrowed and he winced, like he was tasting something vile.
His tongue flicked out again and drew in another strand of her soul. Instantly, his shoulders hunched and he gagged, his eyes bulging.
Instinctively, she reached for her fire, only to find it wasn’t there. Abrax’s shadows had extinguished it. Worse, her body remained transfixed.
Above her, Abrax wiped at his mouth in disgust. “My shadows have quenched Emerazel’s fire, yet I am unable to consume your soul. You have the distinct honor of being the first person whose soul has repulsed me.” His lip curled in disgust. “I’ve never been so revolted. I’m sorry, Ursula, but it doesn’t look like you’re going to be joining me after all.”
Her relief only lasted a moment, because already Abrax was reaching into his velvet jacket to withdraw a thin blade. It glinted in the violet light of the cavern, the edges of the crystals reflecting its mirrored surface. Frantically, Ursula reached for her fire, but her veins were empty.
Time seemed to slow, and Ursula could feel every beat of her heart. Each one threatening to be its last. The crystal at her back hummed with shadow magic. Strangely, it no longer felt ice cold. Familiar shadows whispered below its surface. Shadows she’d used before. Shadows that now flowed through her veins, since Abrax had tried his little soul-meld.
As Abrax moved for her, she let the shadow magic flow through her. Instinct took over. Her body just moved, three feet to the right, and Abrax’s blade splintered on the crystal. Shadow running had become second nature to her now.
Abrax whirled. “How?”
But Ursula didn’t have time to respond. As soon as she had broken contact with the incubus, Emerazel’s fire had come raging back, clashing with the shadow magic in her body. The two things were never meant to mix. She grunted in pain as a burst of fire and shadows erupted from her.
On the plus side, the magical explosion threw Abrax across the cavern.
Abrax shouted at his guards, “Stop her!”
Ursula tried to draw her magic back, but the mix of freezing shadows and infernal fire was uncontrollable. Magic continued to blaze from her like an incandescent geyser. It sprayed into the crystalline ceiling, and broken shards fell around her in a razor-sharp rain.
An oneiroi guard lunged for her. Before she could direct her fire at him, he slammed the toe of his boot into the side of her head.
Chapter 4
Ursula flinched as someone touched her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” said a familiar voice. “But you look terrible.”
Ursula opened her eyes to find Kester crouching next to her, his handsome features creased with worry.
“I look terrible?” she repeated. “Charming as always.”
The cot’s rough fabric scratched her cheek, and she blinked, taking in her surroundings. Back in the cell. She tried to sit up, but dizziness whirled in her mind.
“What did he do to you?” An edge laced Kester’s tone.
“Slammed me with shadow magic. Then I fell into the void, tried to speak with Nyxobas, and ended up with Emerazel instead.”
“And what would you have to say to Nyxobas?” asked Kester.
Ursula pushed herself up onto her elbows, considering just how to bring up Abrax’s little “Kester killed your mum” story. While she was debating this, Kester looked back at her with a mix of confusion and worry. If he’d killed her mother, he certainly didn’t seem concerned about it now.
“I was actually trying to find out—” She bit her lip. She’d need to think about this before she launched into it. “Never mind. There’s more. He wanted to unite our souls or something and rule over mankind, but apparently my soul repulsed him.”
Kester’s lip curled. “Your soul repulsed him? That’s a bit of a personal insult, I’d say.”
“I’ve never been so happy to repulse someone. Speaking of which, what do you mean I look terrible?”
“Pale bags under your eyes, a bit like someone sucked the life out of you. Time for Starkey’s Conjuration Spell again, I think.”
Ursula winced, her body groaning with pain. “I’ve been getting a lot of use out of that one.”
She allowed her head to fall back on the scratchy cot as she incanted the spell. With the final word, a soothing magic filled her body, imbuing it with strength once more. Blinking, she sat up.
“Why Urusula, you look simply ravishing now.” A sly smile. “Did you know you have beautiful skin when you don’t look near death?”
“Are you really flirting with me right now?”
Kester shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We’re both alive. Things could be worse.”
Ursula leaned back on her hands. “I don’t understand why we’re both alive. Why didn’t Abrax kill me after he failed to get what he wanted?”
As she spoke, she studied Kester. If Abrax had been telling the truth, did Kester know? Had he put it all together, the way Bael might have?
Probably best to just lay it all out there and see how he responded. “Kester, Abrax said—”
Just then, the door opened with a bang, and Abrax stood in the center, flanked by his usual pair of oneiroi guards.
Ursula rose, already summoning Emerazel’s fire.
“Which one of you told him?” Abrax shouted, his voice sharp with rage.
What now? “What are you talking about?”
“Hothgar. He’s demanded an audience. Someone told him you were here.”
“And you think it was us?” said Ursula, heat rising in her chest. “The two people who’ve been chained and imprisoned the whole time? There’s something very wrong with you, you know that?”
Abrax’s eyes narrowed. “No one else knows you’re here.”
“Last time I spoke to Hothgar, he told you to kill me. He wants me dead. Even if I’d managed to find my way out of here, Hothgar wouldn’t exactly be first on my list of people to visit.”
“Obviously you have a leak in your manor,” said Kester. “One of your guards, perhaps?”
“That is impossible.” Abrax’s icy voice echoed off the walls.
Ursula folded her arms, still a bit ticked off about the whole “manacle torture” thing. Not to mention the attempted soul-reaping. But she wasn’t wearing manacles now. One incubus—two guards. She may not get a better moment to fight back than this.
She cocked her head. “If the Sword of Nyxobas found out you’ve been keeping us imprisoned without his knowledge, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself. What is the punishment for disobeying his orders?”
With a roar of rage, Abrax lunged for Ursula. She dodged out of the way like a toreador evading a bull. As Abrax reached her, Ursula slammed into him, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Flames sprang from her hands as she leapt on Abrax. She pressed her palms to his chest, and he screamed as smoke rose from between her fingers.
As she seared Abrax’s chest with her fire, Kester lunged for the nearest oneiroi, catching him off guard. In a single motion, he drew the guard’s sword from its scabbard. In a blur of speed, he severed the guard’s head. Hot blood sprayed across the wall of the cell.
Under Ursula’s firm grip, Abrax writhed, until he vanished beneath her fingertips—only to reappear across the room in a swirling cloud of shadows. Ursula shouted a warning to Kester, but she was too late. Already, Abrax was sending strands of shadow magic twining around Kester’s
ankles. He yanked them, and Kester slammed to the ground.
Ursula started to rush for him, but the remaining guard leveled his sword at her throat. The blade pressed against her skin, and the oneiroi’s large eyes gleamed, promising death if she moved. As she raised her hands, Abrax sent shadows snaking across the room, and they slid around her chest.
Abrax’s shirt was smoking where she’d burned him, but that didn’t stop him from kicking Kester hard in the gut.
Ursula tensed, waiting for Abrax’s attack. Instead, he beckoned her forward.
“You’re coming with me, little dog. Hothgar asked for you specifically.”
Ursula winced as she stepped over Kester’s prone body and into the hallway, but she knew a kick to the ribs wouldn’t keep Kester down for long. Still, she needed to find a way to get him out of here. Even if Abrax was snapping a fresh pair of glowing manacles to her wrists right now.
“This way,” said Abrax, and she begrudgingly followed him down the sleek-walled hallway.
As Ursula padded barefoot over the floor in her ragged gown, she couldn’t help but think of Bael. Once, Bael had been Nxyobas’s Sword, living for years in isolation. She had the feeling that he hadn’t let anyone in at all, for all those millennia—until he’d met her. Could he really have been involved in her mum’s death?
She didn’t have long to think about this, because the hallway opened up into Abrax’s stark atrium. This time, a cage-like elevator stood in the center. Ursula felt a pang of sadness as she saw that it was almost an exact replica of the one at Bael’s manor. She followed Abrax into the metal cage, avoiding getting anywhere near him. The door slammed closed.
Inside the elevator, the chain clanked and rattled as they rose toward the roof, passing by floor after floor of obsidian walls and doors. When she’d first come to Bael’s manor, she’d been terrified of him, and the surroundings hadn’t helped. The Bael she’d come to know over time seemed so different than the terrifying Sword of Nyxobas she’d first encountered, brooding on his dark throne. But he still held secrets he hadn’t revealed to her.
When they reached the roof, Ursula shivered as an icy lunar breeze slipped through the remains of her dress. Like in Bael’s manor, the view from the roof was magnificent. The great walls of the caldera curved thousands of feet above them, and the violet spire of Asta sparkled in the distance.
Abrax, of course, didn’t stop to admire the view, immediately striding toward a black carriage at the far end of the roof.
Footsteps clacked over the roof, and a new set of guards flanked her. She walked between them, following Abrax to the carriage. When they reached it, Abrax stopped to open the door. Ursula climbed inside, her chest tightening. Being in the Shadow Realm without Bael felt completely wrong. She shuddered as Abrax sat next to her and the oneiroi guard.
As they rose into the sky, Ursula got a final view of Abrax’s manor in all its glory, the gleaming glass and steel. But the hair on her arms prickled as she got a good look at the roof. Lurking in the shadows stood a large contingent of oneiroi—and behind them, at least five golems.
Chapter 5
The lords’ chamber fell silent as they entered, heels echoing off the marble hall. At a semicircular granite table sat Hothgar, flanked on either side by the ten other demon lords. Hothgar—Sword of Nyxobas—wore a thin chain-mail shirt, his hoary beard and eyebrows giving him a wise appearance. Which, based on what Ursula knew of him, was completely misleading. He gripped a gavel, his petty little symbol of power.
Ursula cast her gaze over the other demon lords—high demons, each one. The luminescent mushrooms lining the hall cast a faint, violet light over their bestial faces. If Ursula had any hope of breaking out of here, it was snuffed out when she noticed the phalanx of guards standing behind the lords.
For their part, the lords—including Hothgar—were glaring at both Abrax and Ursula, hatred gleaming in their dark eyes. It took her a moment to realize the God of Night himself sat in the room, towering over all of them in his dark throne, dark magic curling around him in shadowy tendrils, black eyes gaping wide. He probably had no idea what the hell was going on here. Lost in the void, as usual. Even in a trance, he was a creature of nightmares, cloaked in darkness.
Abrax grabbed Ursula’s arm, pulling her forward until Hothgar held up a hand. The old Sword of Nyxobas nodded to his guards, and five of them began marching toward Ursula and Abrax.
“What’s this about?” Abrax started forward.
“Stay where you are, incubus.” Hothgar didn’t bother to hide the anger in his voice.
Abrax let out a low growl in response.
The five guards encircled the pair of them, and one of the oneiroi pulled Abrax’s sword from his scabbard.
Abrax’s shadow magic whipped around him in sharp coils. “I am a son of Nyxobas. How dare you treat me this way?”
“Your soldiers attacked my family at the Lacus Mortis—”
“Oh. That.” Abrax sighed. “Are you still whining about that? I told you that was an accident. I briefly lost control of my men—”
“People died.”
“People die sometimes. In any case, I made reparations. It is time we put this behind us.”
His diplomacy skills were somewhat lacking, Ursula thought.
Hothgar continued to stare stonily at Abrax.
One of the guards by Abrax’s side grunted, then held up a lethal-looking dagger. “He was concealing this on his person.”
“It is for my personal protection,” said Abrax. “Look.” He flicked his wrist, producing another knife from his sleeve. “I have another blade here.” He held up a thin needle of steel. “One can never be too careful.”
The guard’s eyes widened, and he snatched the blade from Abrax.
Abrax shoved his hands in his pockets. “Now may I take my seat at the table?”
“No, you may not,” growled Hothgar.
“And why is that?” Abrax straightened, throwing his shoulders back slightly.
“You have brought a hound of Emerazel’s into our realm without permission.” Hothgar looked pointedly at Ursula.
Abrax shook his head. “And what of it? She already knew of the realm. She spent considerable time here.”
“I am done with your excuses. You will remain quiet while I interrogate the cur.”
Hothgar turned his dark gaze on Ursula. “Why have you returned to the Shadow Realm?”
“I just love it here so much.”
Hothgar continued to stare at her.
“Abrax abducted me,” she continued. “I’d never have come here willingly, considering the last time I was here, everyone tried to kill me.”
Hothgar’s eyes narrowed. “The bitch lies. You will tell us the truth.”
From behind, a guard shoved her hard in the back. She fell, sprawling to the stone floor. Arsehole. Her hands still manacled, she scrambled to her feet again.
Hothgar stood. “You will have one chance to name your co-conspirators. If you want a clean death, you will not lie.”
Why is he not getting this? “What are you talking about? Abrax kidnapped me. He was holding me against my will. I want nothing to do with you and the Shadow Realm.”
Hothgar nodded at another one of his guards—a demon with a massive barrel chest and a neck like a tree trunk.
“Bring out the prisoner,” said Hothgar.
Kester?
Ursula stared as the guard disappeared into a tunnel that led out of the hall. When she glanced at Abrax, he looked as perplexed as she was. So he doesn’t know what’s going on either.
After a few minutes, the doors slammed open, and the guard returned, leading a demon with a chain attached to an iron collar on his throat.
Not Kester—the muscular form draped in tattered, dark clothes was far too large. Enormous golden manacles clasped his hands, thicker than any Ursula had seen before. A black hood covered the man’s head. She took in the beautiful, golden color of his skin—
But she didn�
�t have long to admire it. The prisoner pulled on his chain, fighting and snarling like a wild animal, and she almost wondered if he’d rip through it. As the guard dragged him past the granite table of lords, the prisoner lunged for them. A sharp pull on his chain from the prison guard stopped him in his tracks.
Abrax spoke, his voice disdainful. “I cannot believe this creature is your source. How can you believe a man who has betrayed his god?”
The guard yanked the hood from the prisoner’s head, and Ursula gasped. It was Bael, dark and powerful shadows whirling off his body. The former Sword of Nyxobas—and her betrothed. Except, he wasn’t exactly looking at her with love in his eyes. In fact, he was staring at her with a feral hunger, his eyes blood-red. Bael had been corrupted by the old way, the feral state that overtook shadow demons when they drank blood. And right now, he kind of looked like he wanted to rip his fiancée’s throat out.
Ursula hardly noticed the burning pain of Emerazel’s fire as it filled her veins.
“Where did you get him?” Abrax’s voice boomed across the room.
Hothgar gripped his gavel. “A guard found him wandering around his manor. He said you’re plotting against the realm. That you’d kidnapped the bitch.”
“He’s insane. Obviously, he drank the bitch’s blood and is corrupted by the old way.”
Hothgar raised an eyebrow. “But he was right about the bitch—”
Ursula raised a manacled hand. “You do realize that I’m standing right here? My name is Ursula.”
Hothgar glared at her. “And you’re also a female hound. Which makes you one of the goddess’s bitches. I am merely addressing you using our technical term.”
Ursula smiled pleasantly. “Sure. That’s the technical term. Having spoken to your wife, I believe the technical term for you is something like ‘conjugal disappointment,’ but you don’t hear me banging on about it.”
“Let’s stick to the point.” Abrax pointed to Bael. “He’s gone feral. He’s lost his wings and his seat at the lords’ table. We should be discussing the best way to put him down. And yet, you’re telling me that you believe his word over mine?”
Eternal Magic Page 3